


He Won't Bleed

by friedgalaxies



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Chaos God Eridan, Chaos Gods - Freeform, Multi, Mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-21 10:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6048450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friedgalaxies/pseuds/friedgalaxies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He won’t bleed gold. He won’t even bleed silver. No. He’ll bleed oil and liquor, intoxicating and dangerous. But not dangerous enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Make

He’s young. He’s young and he’s stupid and you’re even stupider. The power goes to both your heads and you’re floating on the fuckin’ euphoria of gluttony. There’s enough gold in one of your hands to feed both of you for years but you don’t care. You just want him. With you. 

Just him. 

She’s been gone for six years. Wasn’t even that tragic. Quick. Painless. 

They found her body floating in a cold, cold river. Her skin was kissed with blue and purple. 

All you saw was gold. 

She was encased in it, a living mold. It shimmered on her skin when she moved. Stars floated in her veins and her eyes and moonlight slipped down her cheeks. The cosmos fluttered when she breathed and she never even knew it. 

You knew. 

You knew it and you never told her. She was an entity, divine grace. Her breath on your skin sent shockwaves of starlight ghosting through your pores. It filled you up on a righteous high and brought you down on a miraculous low. Then you crashed. Crashed and burned, wheels still rolling like the smoking rubber on the chipped red of her car, laying on its back in the rain. Washed away, floating. All that starlight, space encased and brought down to earth, freed. Free to float among the mere mortals again, shedding light. Peace. Hope. 

Death. 

You destroyed her. You’re going to destroy him, too. He isn’t space and cosmos and miracles like she was. He’s blank and dark and crude. A rough hewn stone, shining deep beneath layers of useless minerals. Invaluable. But still so worthless. 

His core is deep, deep down. So far it could be missed. You aren’t going to kiss his skin like you did hers, turning it to glittering particles of gold. He’s not worth the time. 

You’ll corrupt him, turning him dark and cold like the pits you scraped you knees on as a child, crawling and slaving away day by day. Hour by hour. Minute by minute, till they let you free. You don’t want him to know freedom like you let her know freedom. He doesn’t deserve it. He’ll be your plaything, rough and ragged at the edges, flinching at every touch, wary of your eyes. 

He hates purple. It’s the color of royalty, you whisper. No, he screams back. It’s the color of frostbite and death, the color on her fingertips. Floating, floating on a black cloud of newborn cosmos, a void she’ll turn to light. 

He won’t bleed gold. He won’t even bleed silver. No. He’ll bleed oil and liquor, intoxicating and dangerous. But not dangerous enough. 

You’ll send what he bleeds down, down, down, to Her, where it’ll be scrutinized by the same eight eyes that scrutinized you, powerful and dark and enchanting, capable of destroying and creating at the same time. Eight times over. Eight. Eight. Eight. 

You’ll send him down to Him. He’ll burn the oil and liquor, cover him in it till he’s screaming for death at His hands. He’ll turn him darker, and darker, breaking with every bare touch. Break. Break. Break. 

Your fellow gods of chaos are waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. 

You name is Eridan, god of Cosmic Chaos, and your friends want you to turn these filthy humans into Perfect Beings, because they can’t do it themselves. But not every human is capable of being a Perfect Being, so you’ll send Them the Rejects. 

Your name is Eridan, and it’s time to breathe out Chaos upon the Cosmos. 

Breathe. 

Breathe. 

B r e a t h e


	2. Sign

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s a fire in her eyes that wasn’t there before, a flashing blue light making your head spin.

They stand above you. Tall. Imposing. Terrifying. 

Your hands are bleeding and your head is spinning. You can’t breathe. There are manacles around your wrists and ankles, tethering you to the ground. Below Them. Always below Them. 

She has a sharp smile, sharper and brighter than the knife you know she has hidden behind her back. It’s distracting, infuriating. You know all Her games, tricks, treacheries. 

He stands, arms crossed, glaring down at you behind smoked lenses, cracked and glinting, glaringly bright in the sparse light glinting off them. You don’t know Him. You don’t want to know Him. 

She speaks first. 

”So how did you kill him, little Ampora?” She asks. No. It’s a demand, coated over in honeyed words and vocal sugar to fool you into thinking it’s a question. You don’t want to answer, but at the same time, you do. There’s a fire in her eyes that wasn’t there before, a flashing blue light making your head spin. You know that if you speak, you won’t stop. 

He tugs on one of your chains, rust disguised as metal digging into the flesh of your throat. You retch. She smiles. He remains impassive. 

”Deserved it.” 

She leans down like She didn’t hear you, curling a hand around the shell of Her ear. “I’m sorry, little fish, could you repeat that?” 

Fire burns in the bottom of your gut, churning the acid of your stomach. Rage turns your blood boiling, white hot, even as it flows sluggishly onto the dirty ground. 

There’s blood stains everywhere. It makes you sick. 

”Deserved it.” You try to scream, but it comes out more of a whimper. It’s sickening, how weak they’ve made you. She tells you so. 

You’ll learn later as you sign a contract with blood slicked palms shaking with adrenaline, that She was feeding you those thoughts all along. 

As you opened the door to his room, even as he yelled at you to get out. 

As you grinned and laughed and showed him the hunting knife you’d taken from your dad’s showroom. 

As he tried to convince you in a voice full of fear to put the knife down, to talk it out with him, even as he reached for his phone beneath his pillow. 

As you thrust the knife into his throat, twisting it, turning it, sawing away at tendons and muscle and vocal cords and airways. 

Even as you thrust the knife into your own stomach, bleeding out on the floor of your brother’s room, his slowly cooling corpse only a few feet away. 

You reach for Her and She lifts you onto Her hip, leaning close to your ear. 

”Welcome, newest god of chaos. You’ll be a wonderful addition.” 

He glanced over His shoulder at you, tiny, burning you, slicked with blood that wasn’t your own, still drowning on acid and bile. 

”We’ve finally found a Cosmic god. Please don’t break him just yet, Lies.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This will be a multi chapter thing. Next chapter will focus on how Eri became a chaos god and then Equius and Vriska after that! I still haven't decided on the exact details or order though. As always, comments and kudos are appreciated!


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